


Disease of the Flowered

by At_the_moment



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: An attemped at some humor, Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Injury, Ethan and Tyler cameo, Exhaustion, Fainting, Felix is mentioned (maybe twice), Felix is mentioned like once, Flowers, Gross stuff maybe, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Not Actually Unrequited Love, OCs (it's more self insert really), Roses, Sad!Jack, Sad!Mark, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, carnations, lavender - Freeform, throwing up, trigger warning, unreliable narrator at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/At_the_moment/pseuds/At_the_moment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark and Jack discover each other, they realize they begin to cough up flower petals. First yellow, then pink, and finally red. They don’t understand until they look up what the colors mean. Friendship, crush, love. Of course they freak out, especially when they look up diseases where flowers are barfed up. </p>
<p>The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. The Hanahaki disease is NOT harmless. You can die from it. The growing flowers will eventually clog up your respiratory system and your windpipe… leading to eventual death due to lack of air.</p>
<p>They begin to think that their entire relationship was a lie, and wonder if getting the surgery would be the best option before they inevitably die by suffocation on flowers. One does but the other will take the risk and continue to love the other, but before they die or get the surgery they decided to tell each other about their feelings.</p>
<p>What they don’t know is that the fictional disease is meant for soulmates. Or something like that, yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yellow Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Second story. Wrote this between twelve thirty and two a.m. Tell me what you think. Constructive Criticism is welcome. 
> 
> I don't have much to say. Um, hope you guys like it. I don't know how sad this is going to get. Meh, angst is more my style, not tragedy. So, lets hope nothing bad happens. 
> 
> It might though, haven't finished it, so can't tell you yet. Also if yall think I need to change the tags or add some don't be afraid to tell me..

The two meet online, through a mutual friend on YouTube. Felix gave Jack a shout out. Mark followed him first then, two days later, Felix followed him himself.

There was a skype call, an arrangement to play games, and a few harmless misunderstandings. After the recording the two couldn’t help but find that they had enjoyed the time they’d shared together and planned to do it again sometime.

After that, Jack was left with the biggest smile he ever had splitting his face. He was a giggly, bubbly mess and he felt soft butterflies bumping against his stomach and kidneys.

As he giggled he began to feel a lump forming in his throat. The slight laughter died as he began to clear his throat in hopes of dislodging whatever it was. This turned into coughing, which turned to hacking. He could barely breath. He covered his mouth with his hand, feeling spit and something else hit his palm.

If you’ve ever coughed so hard that you feel like you might throw up this was exactly what it was like.

Jack felt bile rise in his esophagus, he jumped up and ran to his bathroom. His hand covering his mouth as he hacked was beginning to become slimy with saliva. His knees crashed to his bathroom floor and he leaned over the toilet seat.

He coughed and coughed and up came a slimy yellow carnation into the toilet bowl. It floated in the water, looking harmless enough.

Jack felt breath returning to his lungs as he took a few deep breaths. He coughed a few more times into his toilet and up came a few yellow petals. He grimaced at the feeling in his mouth, tasting like stomach acid and carnation petals. He flushed the flower.

He stood and looked in his mirror. Jack opened his mouth and, with forefinger and thumb, pulled one last yellow petal off his tongue. He grimaced again and went to wash his hands, only to find more spit soaked petals attached to his hand.

Confused beyond belief Jack didn’t know what else to do besides wash them down the sink. He went to his office to record and wondered if it was all just a weird sleep deprived day dream.

. . .

Mark pushed himself away from the computer, having finished his first recording session with the bubbly Irishman, clearing his throat. He coughed a few times and felt something come up. It didn’t feel like an ordinary loogie. He moved the foreign object around, rolling it with his tongue. Finally, he opened his mouth and reached in. He pulled out a rolled up yellow petal. He unrolled it and looked at it strangely.

Shrugging and throwing it out in the waste basket, he didn’t think much of it and went to bed to get enough sleep to record in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... didn't realize this was so short. This week and next will be really busy, so don't know when I'll have time to post more. But there is more. 
> 
> Honestly have no idea how this is all going to play out though. Wish these two luck!
> 
> MMMMMByeeeee!


	2. Turned Rosy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d finally met in person, after so many months, maybe even a year of seeing each other through a skype cam; they finally got to see each other, hug each other in person. The experience was thrilling and awe inspiring and fucking terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually early, because I would not have been able to post tomorrow. Weekly updates, Tues/Thurs. God help me if I don't post then. So yeah, enjoy this chapter because the next is to be angst... I think. I haven't ever got a clear definition of what angst is.

They’d finally met in person, after so many months, maybe even a year of seeing each other through a skype cam; they finally got to see each other, hug each other in person. The experience was thrilling and awe inspiring and fucking terrifying. They had signings, panels, and meet-and-greets together.

Jack was simply overwhelmed and in awe, and Mark watched the shock turn to wonder in his eyes, loving every minute of it.

It was over too soon, it happened too fast for either to realize that in the blink of an eye the convention ended, and Jack was on a plane to Ireland and Mark back to LA.

But during the time together, neither questioned why one would suddenly have to slip away to the bathroom. Their friends noticed and teased them have having a urinary track infection, which they laughed off and just said something about indigestion or jet lag messing with their stomach. Neither wanted to explain that they had to leave because they barfed up a whole bouquet of yellow carnations into the facility’s toilets.

Well, actually, Mark ended up throwing up more pink lavender then carnations by the end of the trip.

He stared at the little flowers, still with their stems. Yeah, that had been killer getting up. His throat was sore and he just couldn’t find it in him to get a drink of water from his kitchen. He just stared at the lavender, wondering why the carnations were becoming fewer. His thoughts wandered, his vision became unfocused as his mind began to think of other things, projects, the fans he’d just met, Jack.

His sparkling eyes, filled with awe. His bright smile that just made everyone else light up too. His bubbly personality and constant bouncing around. His excitement to meet the fans and nervousness about doing so. His wonder, childlike, and happiness that rubbed off even in the most stressful times. Jack…

Jack.

_Jack._

_Jack!_

**JACK!**

Mark suddenly ran as fast as he could to his bathroom and heaved up a lovely bouquet of lavender with a few yellow carnations into his toilet bowl.

. . .

When Jack got home he went straight to his bathroom. He knelt down and began to throw up petals and whole flowers of yellow carnations. Ugh. Jack groaned, his stomach churning. He heaved again, and choked a little. He grimaced and wiped his mouth. His gag reflex was really working overtime. Especially when there were stems. Ew.

He sighed and stood. Then he suddenly fell back down and began to hack as if he was a cat coughing up a fur ball. It was a dry cough unlike the carnations. He leaned over the bowl and coughed dryly. Out came a few small pink flowers into the pile of yellow.

If Jack had an artist’s eye he would say it didn’t look half bad as a floral arrangement. But he didn’t, he barely paid it any mind and just flushed it down the toilet. He was too tired to come up with much of an explanation today. Jet Lag is a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy it? Leave a comment to tell me if I need to improve on anything, feed back is wonderful!
> 
> Also yes, each of these chapters will be short. Eh, what can ya do?


	3. Reddened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had kept up contact. But now the flowers have changed again.
> 
> Into Red.
> 
> The color of passion, anger... love. They were in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! Yay? I don't really know what to put for these notes sometimes. Regardless, I'm running out of ideas, I have one more chapter to post then... I don't know where I go from there. Maybe within the next few weeks new inspiration will come. But until then, enjoy this new chapter!

They had kept up contact. Jack had traveled to America for a few more cons, done a few more panels with his friends. Within that time Jack had gotten his hair dyed green.

Mark had been through pink and blue, both had faded. Now he was contemplating which color he should dye his hair next.

They still played games with each other, and always had a great time. Though, yes, sometimes they would randomly have to get up and use the restroom. Jack was teased about being drunk and constantly having to piss. He laughed it off, not questioning Mark’s absences either.

The two always had fun when they were together and both wished they could spend more time with each other in person, instead of waiting for cons. Jack had visited Mark once that was strictly friendly, no YouTube business, just having fun visiting a friend.

Mark had nearly gotten sick the night before Jack’s arrival being up all night in his bathroom throwing up lavender, the yellow carnations nothing but a distant memory.

After the trip, Mark found himself again up all night over his toilet bowl throwing up lavender. Nearing the end of the spew Mark began to choke. He coughed and felt as if he had to reach down into his throat to dislodge whatever was growing down there.

And up it came, like bird throwing up food for its babies, a red as blood rose. Mark stared at it for a long time. The yellow carnations and pink lavender were flowers Mark vaguely knew of. But didn’t exactly understand the meanings.

A red rose however, that was fairly straight forward. Even the manliest man, knew what a red rose meant.

Mark stared at it, floating in the lavender filled water of his toilet bowl. He didn’t know what to do. Internally flailing, externally panicking, mentally crying, physically shaking.

Why was he coughing up flowers?

It’s the first time that question really crossed his mind. He had to figure this out before this killed him. Great head stone:

Here lies Markimoo

The manliest man on the internet

Died choking on a flower.

. . .

Jack was crying. He didn’t understand and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. The carnations had disappeared and were replaced by lavender. He didn’t care much for the smell but it was nice not to have to stare into such bright yellow from now on.

No, the light pink was much better on the eyes. Just the smell was so potent.

But now, now it just hurt.

He was sitting on his bathroom floor clutching onto a huge bouquet of stemmed roses. It was a nice arrangement and Jack felt his entire body tremble. He’d coughed this up while thinking about Mark. He had had such a nice time and he was so sad to go. It was the first time he’d gotten to be with his friends without it being about work. They got some good old fashioned bro time and it was fantastic.

Especially his time with Mark. Once he got home to his empty apartment and did a vlog on his trip, the camera’s turned off and the introspection began.

This was when Jack began to reflect, his conversations with Mark, his gaming time with Mark, just in general every time him and Mark were in the same room. Every time they were in the same vicinity.

He adored all his friends, but he had begun to realized, Mark was in a category all his own. The lavender change should have been his hint. He’d been crushing on Mark.

He felt stupid for not seeing it before. It was only when Mark came up in his thoughts that the flowers came up as well. So with a little research… okay a lot of research, Jack had found out that yellow carnations meant friendship and pink lavender crush. Sure, when Jack had read this he freaked a little. But slowly began to accept it.

He could accept the little crush he had on Mark, after all the guy was amazing. From his physical appearance to his optimistic personality and humor, it was hard not to like him.

It was when the roses came that Jack freaked again, worse than before. He didn’t need research to tell him what those meant. It had honestly started just before he went to the airport, it almost stopped him from going entirely.

Now he was back home, he’d had a great time and the roses just kept coming. The lavender came up to, still there.

Jack’s gag reflex was tested when the stems came up. Instead of in the toilet Jack held onto them, clutching them.

It wasn’t the fact that his sexuality was in question, but the fact that Mark’s sexuality was not.

With the knowledge of the lavender Jack felt the need to perhaps experiment, so he did. He found his answers and accepted the results. It wasn’t something he’d brag about, just something that simply was. But now, more research was in order.

Why was he coughing up flowers?

It was time he buckled down and found out why, and if it could be stopped, fixed, cured, or even just a reason. Why were they tied to his emotions towards Mark? Seemed to be the more important question.

. . .

Red.

That’s all Mark could see anymore. Red, red. Red roses, red roses. They were scattered about, everywhere in his room, on his floor and bed. Even in his office, on his desk and monitor. Because sometimes he just couldn’t make it to his bathroom.

Red.

The color of passion, anger... love. He was in love. In love with Jack, Sean, his best friend from across the pond. Mark felt if he wasn’t spitting up roses he’d be spitting up poetry. It’d be just as disgusting.

Red.

His hair was losing its blue color turning purplish; he’d need to get it re-dyed soon. He’d vlog about it once he figured out what color he wanted to dye it. Oh, I wonder what color…

_Red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this was really fun to write, let me know what you thought down in the comments below! Until next week darlings! Buh bye!


	4. Hanahaki: Flower Spitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two felt tears flow from their eyes, enough salt water to fill the oceans between them. Was their entire friendship a lie? Did the other really hate them? Only use them for personal gain?

Two hearts, beating as one, separated by waves. Fingers mashed keys, this time, not of game controllers but of keyboards. For the sake of answers instead of running from a virtual monster.

What the two found was not pleasing.

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided attraction, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. The Hanahaki disease is NOT harmless. You can actually die from it. Because the growing flowers will eventually clog up your respiratory system and your windpipe… leading to eventual death due to lack of air.

The two felt tears flow from their eyes, enough salt water to fill the oceans between them. Was their entire friendship a lie? Did the other really hate them? Only use them for personal gain?

Jack wondered what he’d offered Mark to make him do this.

Mark wondered if sweet, sincere Jack could really do that.

Neither wanted to believe, but considering what they knew of each other, it was likely that it was one-sided. After all, each thought the other was straight.

So now they had a choice. Get the surgery, or let the flowers overgrow.

Remove all sense of attraction towards the person, or let love kill them.

Jack couldn’t take it, he shut down his computer and just sat there crying. He felt his heart pound heavily with this decision, could he really give up Mark? Suddenly a familiar feeling hit his guts. He was up and to his bathroom in no time. Up came the roses, the lavender all but gone.

Mark felt his heart squeeze and his stomach drop. He stared at his screen unseeing. Tears were trailing down his cheeks. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs. The only thing he could feel were the red pedals coming up his esophagus. He didn’t bother to move as they came up, falling from his lips into his lap.

. . .

Two hearts, beating as one, separated by waves. Faces in hands, tear stained cheeks, bone-racking sobs shaking their entire beings. Never had they felt this. Their hearts feeling shattered, but the cracks only holographs.

Already the two felt their throats closing. But what could they do? It was inevitable, the flowers kept coming, becoming more frequent with each passing day.

Mark knew he could never stop loving Jack. He just couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone, to dial that number and schedule an appointment.

Jack on the other hand, wanting desperately to salvage what was left of his friendship and sanity, just hoped he and Mark could still be friends after this.

Jack decided that before the surgery he would tell Mark, he’d come to LA. On the last day, two days before the surgery, as Mark was dropping him at the airport, he'd tell him about the flowers and the surgery and then disappear into the crowds, tears already flowing and heart heavy.

Mark decided he’d surprise Jack with a visit to Ireland and tell him as soon as he got there. Then at best, Jack would accept it and they’d awkwardly hang out for the week before Mark went home. At worst he’d have to cancel the entire thing and leave. Probably dying as soon as he got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for an important Author's Note that's coming out sometime this week, maybe even today after this one is posted.


	5. A/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post this today.

IF YOU WANT THIS STORY TO CONTINUE YOU WILL READ THIS!!!!!!

 

Hi… So, I have some bad news and some good news.  To begin, I wrote these four chapters, maybe a month ago from like midnight to two in the morning. (That’s not so hard to believe right? They were really short.) So it was all in one shot and then the inspiration just went _Ka-Put_. So as I’ve been posted this, I haven’t been writing any more than up to the last chapter. However, now! Just trying to write this little explanative I’ve gain some more inspiration!

But!

Butt!   l3

But, if ya’ll have any ideas you want me to put into the next chapter, which may be our last for this story sadly (or not!). I have a vague sense of what I want to do so there’s no guarantee that I’ll use your ideas.

One of the things I will ask is if anyone has a die-hard preference on where the confessions happen? Like do you feel like Mark should visit Jack first or Jack visit Mark first (Confessions happen in LA or Ireland). From what I describe in the next last chapter did anyone like one confession plan more than another? Or do you not have a preference?

SO! In summary, the bad news is that the next chapter will be a little late! The good news is that there will be a chapter up eventually. I just probably have to wait until like midnight some night to get it down.


	6. Wait for It (Jack's Filler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lost all feelings for him. Woke up with a blank look on my face, numb in the chest, as if my heart had been taken out. I didn’t go online for months, avoiding the servers I’d normally use to see him. It was during that time that he sent me a message. “I miss you.” When I found it, weeks, maybe a month old, I sent back one saying, ‘I don’t miss you, I don’t love you anymore.’
> 
> We stopped talking. Every time it felt like I should cry, sob and feel heartbroken, I just felt numb. It’s an oxymoron really, feel numb. But I did, it was as if my torso disappeared from my body and left me separated from myself. Incomplete. Not whole. Impaired. Broken. 
> 
> I never told him. I regret the decision—I wish I’d told him. Waited for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, All of these comments giving me such amazing ideas and feedback. It really made me want to fucking write this, and make it fantastic adding in as much as I could from your comments! We aren't done yet! :p heed the new tags!
> 
> So looks like I'm back, if only for a little while. You see, I got a plan now, and it's being executed, but slowly, so maybe two weeks between updates now. It took me about a week of writing this chapter to finish it since it was so long, and had to be rewritten due to the oc inclusion. Which I'm honestly not sure I like. Tell me what you guys think, because I don't think she's coming back.
> 
> Also, just so y'all know, I know that the internet says Yellow Carnations mean 'you are a disappointment' but where I come from they mean friendship. When I read what they meant I was really confused cause during valentines day me and my friends would always send yellow carnations to each other, lol. We are disappointments!

Jack was slouched in his seat by the aisle. He’d been jumping plane to plane, city to city, From Dublin to London to Pittsburgh to Austin. The flight he was on now was sending him off to his final destination: LA. Home to the one: Markiplier. Jack had called Tyler to tell him he was coming over to surprise Mark. Tyler had agree to keep it secret.

Jack had tried to conceal the flowers and tears from the man beside him and the young girl sitting by the window in coach. A father daughter duo perhaps? Usually he was up out of his seat, hogging the bathroom.

It was at one point where he’d fallen into a restless sleep that the flowers had forced him awake. Mercifully it was only a few red petals, but they were choked on by tears. Jack quickly apologized for the disgusting display but the two other passengers just shook their heads and told him it was okay. Hearing them say this just made his tears fall harder. He put his head in his arms and bent his knees up into the seat.

The man and girl looked at him with sympathy. They began to dig in their bags. The man pulled out a red bandana with white and black designs. The girl pulled out a bar of chocolate. The two kind souls offered Jack the items.

He initially refused, not wanting to burden the poor people beside him with his snot and tears.

The young girl spoke up, voice soft and a bit shaky, “Sir… Jack… Listen I’m a fan and well, I know what’s up.”

Jack looked at the girl and suddenly felt a brick wall of guilt hit him in his stomach. This girl was a fan and he was blubbering like an idiot.

“This is my dad.” The girl continued softly, offering a smile, “I’m Polaris, like the northern star. And I’ve always loved your enthusiasm for helping people, in any way you can. You’ve help so many of your fans. So, perhaps, this once… you could let a fan help you?”

The father remained silent, but continued to hold out the handkerchief and the girl continued to offer him the chocolate.

He wiped at his eyes, threatening to leak out more at the girl’s kind words. He then took the offered handkerchief and chocolate bar.

As his fingers brushed the girl’s she spoke again, “Chocolate helps keep the flowers down I discovered.”

His heart stalled at the statement. He didn’t know why but he suddenly glanced at the father. The man had impossibly blue eyes. Sapphires that burned darkly with blue fire. Though blue, they were not like Jack’s who had light baby blue eyes. The father's eyes held darkness where Jack's held light. A stroke of fear slid up his spine and he looked away sitting back up right in his seat.

“Jack?” The girl asked, her voice still soft and still a bit shaky. “I don’t want to appear as an obnoxious fan girl.”

Jack shook his head, “I’d gladly take a photo with you. It might not look great with my eyes being all red and puffy though.” He chuckled.

The girl chuckled too, “Oh no, no, you misunderstand. My phone is horrible at taking pictures there’d be no point. Um,” The girl paused, obviously blushing, “Listen, I think I know what we’re wondering. The Hanahaki Disease. You’re wondering if I have, or perhaps _had_ it, and I’m wondering who is on the receiving end of yours.”

The girl glanced up at her father. “Dad, may I speak to Jack privately?”

The man gave his daughter a look and then stood sliding his way out and disappeared up the aisle. The girl then sat in the seat her father had been in beside Jack.

The eyes that stared up at him were odd. He couldn’t quite place the color. It seemed that at the moment they looked dark green. But if she shifted and the light caught her eyes they’d appear gray. She gave him a concerned look.

“Jack eat the chocolate, it’ll help. Promise.” The girl sat back a little, Jack hadn’t realized she’d been leaning in closer to examine his face.

He looked down at the candy bar, unwrapped it, and took a bite. Suddenly the uncomfortable fullness in his gut caused by the infection began to feel hollow, lighter. He felt like his breath was coming back. He took a few deep breaths and then beamed at the girl, who beamed back and suddenly her eyes looked blue, much like her father’s. He took a few more bites, and decided to wrap the rest back up for later.

“Thank you, very much!” Jack smile wouldn’t leave his face. This is the best he’d felt in months! Maybe years! Holy shite!

The girl’s smile faded though, and became serious again, “Can I ask you something… maybe a little private?”

Jack looked at the girl again, her eyes still blue, “Um…” He shifted in his seat a little.

“You have no obligation to answer okay? But I still think it should be asked… Are you heading to LA… because of Mark?”

Jack nearly choked on the chocolate still in his mouth.

The girl flinched, “I know that kind of sounded like a septiplier trash fan girl thing to say. And you know what, maybe it is… I mean, if you’ve found someone that makes you happy, by all means it doesn’t have to be Mark… But if it is, I’m sure everyone in your fan base, including myself, will support you. But what I’m really trying to ask is… is he the reason you have Hanahaki?”

The girl wouldn’t look him in the eye, and honestly, Jack wasn’t looking at her either. In fact, he had tears coming down his face and the hollow feeling was slowly beginning to close up.

The girl sighed, “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been so straight forward. I’m sorry. Look, you’re one of my favorite YouTubers. You just… I don’t know, your personality type is one I like. And I don’t… I don’t want to see someone who’s known for being the loud perky always smiling Irishman of YouTube, to die because someone was stupid enough not to love him.”

Jack shook his head, tears coming down his face again, “I-I’m getting the surgery.”

“Oh.” The young girl almost appeared to be hiding judgement behind the voice, “Oh. I guess… I can understand that.”

Jack bowed his head, knowing that she was probably thinking he was selfish. Looking back on it, it did seem pretty selfish.

The girl sighed and turned her body away from him, staring at the back of the blue seat in front of her. There was silence as the two contemplated what was to be said next if anything was to be said at all.

Finally making up her mind, the girl spoke, “Have you ever thought of soulmates, Jack?”

He looked at her, cocking his head in confusion. His heart ached for a moment thinking of Mark. Something rose up through his stomach and chest but stopped short of his esophagus. Looks like the chocolate really could keep the flowers down. He shook his head.

The girl sighed, “I found mine when I was fourteen. It was by accident… and what started me on the path I am. I saw a video online and, following a few links, ran into him. No feelings really developed until he told me his sexual orientation. It was then I knew I had a chance.

“I began coughing up white carnations and gardenia. Innocent, pure, but secret love. I found that if I eat some sweets before I went out, cake, ice cream, chocolate bars being the best, I was able to keep the flowers to a minimum. This went on for years, until, a year ago, the flowers changed. They became pure blue roses. This meant that I could never have him. Always in the back of my mind I knew this, but I still remained hopeful until the flowers told me not to.

“Blue roses. Because they cannot be achieved naturally, they represent the unattainable or the mysterious. Blue roses embody the desire for the unattainable. They say: _I can't have you but I can't stop thinking about you._

“I got the surgery soon after. But that wasn’t really my decision. It was more my parents than anything. They didn’t want to walk into my room one day and find that I had a blue rose growing out of my mouth, and the roots growing in my lungs. I wouldn’t have minded the fate, not really. I found it a bit poetic. But to ease my parents worries I consented to the surgery.

“I lost all feelings for him. Woke up with a blank look on my face, numb in the chest, as if my heart had been taken out. I didn’t go online for months, avoiding the servers I’d normally use to see him. It was during that time that he sent me a message. “I miss you.” When I found it, weeks, maybe a month old, I sent back one saying, ‘I don’t miss you, I don’t love you anymore.’

“We stopped talking. Every time it felt like I should cry, sob and feel heartbroken, I just felt numb. It’s an oxymoron really, _feel_ numb. But I did, it was as if my torso disappeared from my body and left me separated from myself. Incomplete. Not whole. Impaired. Broken.

“I never told him. I regret the decision— _I wish I’d told him_. Waited for an answer.”

This is where the girl finally paused, to look back at Jack. The two held each other’s gaze, “Jack, if you are going to LA to find the person, whoever it is, that is causing you to cough up flowers, then I hope it’s to tell them. Wait for the answer Jack, then perhaps decide fully on that surgery.”

Jack just nodded. Is that what it would be like? Every time he and Mark hung out, or he even thought of him? Maybe the surgery, wasn’t the best way to keep their friendship. Jack sighed, “Thanks for the advice. I really do appreciate it.”

The girl shook her head, “It’s one thing to appreciate it, it’s another to follow it.” The girl looked back to the window. She then reached down and took something out of her bag. It was three more chocolate bars, “Here. For the road.”

She smiled at Jack as she handed them to him. He took them and smiled back.

She pulled her hand away, put it too her mouth in fist and coughed.

Jack quickly grabbed at the handkerchief the girl’s father had given him. Soaked now with tears and mucus, but it was all he could offer.

She took it gratefully and began to hack into it. Something was coming out of her mouth and mixing darkly with the red on the bandana. He was suddenly worried that she was coughing up blood. But then she pulled the handkerchief away and he saw in it yellow petals, and the smallest yellow rose he’d ever seen.

She took the small yellow rose and smiled at, she then looked at him, still smiling. “I’m being given a second chance Jack. Let’s hope this time I make it.” She cradled the rose to her chest. He could only imagine that the hole that was left from the surgery was filling back up.

He agreed though. He did hope she made it. This girl was on the fast track to heartbreak and possibly death. But she was smiling anyway, just glad that she could feel again.

He wondered then, perhaps all was not lost? Jack took a deep breath. Seeing how he had three more candy bars, Jack decided to finish the first one.

The two plane passengers continued their conversation on lighter topics. The girl was apparently taking her father to New Zealand for a tour of Lord of the Rings/Hobbit sets as a fiftieth birthday present, and was stopping in LA for the donut festival before their final destination.

They even talked about Undertale and how the girl had been disappointed with the ending and asked if he went back and saw the end with (Spoilers!) Asriel and if he did, could he tell her how he reacted to the dialog. She also asked if he’d want a sequel, and what plot should it have.

She told him that she had a small, fairly unknown channel on YouTube where she put up various animations. She told him that she wanted to aspire to greater things, such as writing novels, screen plays and even wanted to make some story centric video games if she could.

He of course encouraged her and even asked her what her channel was. She named it and found an animation retelling WW2 with stop motion cardboard dinosaurs, which had him laughing and feeling well educated at the same time.

Then there was another series called We Three Souls and its sister series (The Author Series), that was about a girl with two separate sides of herself that eventually lead to the story of her turning into The Author, a mysterious character with a mutated darker self that represented the two inner demons. It was heartwarming, hilarious, and heartbreaking.

Another series of animations, as the girl stated, was an experiment with sound. It was a scene of a subway, focusing on various things going on with the sounds muted, this would eventually lead to everything becoming frozen and the world going white. Each one of the three had a different ending though. One as the world went stagnate and the sounds got louder, and the angels pan to the various things creating the noises but showed them unmoving, giving a very out of sync feel. When the world went white the sounds continued until the video ended. The second the sound stopped when the movement stopped, then after the world went white the sound returned. The third, was only went the world went white did the sound stop, rather abruptly to.

There was even a hilarious crudely drawn septiplier animation, clearly meant as a joke, called ‘Bro Fist for Septiplier’. It was some fan yelling “Felix! Someone’s trying to ruin your OTP!” and had Felix shout “Who?” and then proceed to bro fist various other YouTubers into oblivion. It ended with Mark and Jack looking at Felix with horror and disgust saying “what the hell man!” “Dude!” “Not cool!” But Felix ignoring them and saying “now kiss!” and shoving their faces together. The end drawing was just so ridiculous with Jack and Mark practically eating each other’s faces as Felix had a stupid but evil look on his face.

There was a sequel, just as crudely drawn, where the same fan shouted at Felix again and when he responded ‘Who?’ the fan got a close up with a dark but humorous face and whispered ‘you!’ Felix then gave the fan a horrified look “oh no!” he shouted as a large shadow loomed over him and a huge bro fist sent him flying back and landing with a large explosion. With Jack and Mark in the foreground looking relieved. Mark asked Jack if he wanted to grab a pizza, which Jack accepted. The two walked off screen and it zoomed in on a charred Felix who gave a thumbs up before it fell back down and he groaned.

Jack even laughed at these two animations, him being drawn in nothing but green, Mark in red, and Felix in blue. Just the joking quality of the animation’s style cracked him up.

She even made animations for songs she liked, the one called Gasoline had two versions, one she made up with real YouTubers that portrayed the difficulty of living up to subscriber’s expectations and the other was of her own hardships with it.

There were smaller, shorter animations, a purple rose growing and wilting through the perspective of a diamond, a short series not unlike asdfmovies that showed two adorably drawn characters being awkward together, a short dance number that seemed to portray a love triangle, and one that was pure nonsense for the sake of nonsense entitled How Weird Came to Be.

Each one seemed to have its own sense of style. One from We Three Souls looked like water color on cloth or rough parchment, similar to faded Japanese drawings. The design of the Author series was very cubic.  And Gasoline one was very realistic.

This girl obviously had talent and he told her so. She asked if he had any feedback for her and he told her no simply because he wasn’t well knowledgeable about animation. She nodded in understanding, but still prompted him to tell her of his reactions, what the work made him feel, make commentary as if he was playing a game as she alluded to.

She seemed to be pleased with the results.

The two had no idea how long they’d discussed things but at one point her father returned and she switched seats with him in order to continue talking with Jack.

The father ended up falling asleep and because of everything the two had been through they were close behind. The girl checked her watch, “Sleep would be best.” She muttered, already slurring her words with tiredness. She grabbed a blanket from her feet and curled up, “Night Jack!” She rolled over and faced her dad, resembling a tired but content sushi roll.

Jack followed after curling up as well and facing the aisle, this time his sleep was a bit more peaceful.

. . .

Jack stirred awake by a light hand shaking his shoulder. He looked up to see a flight attendant smiling down at him, telling him they’d be landing soon. His heart lurched but he nodded and smiled up at her.

He twisted in his seat, feeling the kink in his neck already, as the flight attendant reached across him and tapped the girl.

She jolted as if she’d been electrocuted, her eyes, gray-green, busted open and she seemed to suck a harsh breath in through her nose as she looked, widely up at the flight attendant. The fear dissipated from her eyes in a mere instant, the flight attendant didn’t seem too sure how to react to the girl’s almost violent reaction.

“It’s okay! Um, we’ll be landing soon.” The young woman tried to calm the girl.

She nodded and smiled, thanking the attendant and acted as if she didn’t wake up to a heart attack. She then turned and smacked her father’s chest, “Dad, we’re almost there, wake up!”

The father grunted, his face scrunched up before his eyes began to blink open. The girl was shuffling around gathering a few things. The father winced as he too sat up.

“How’s your back?” Jack heard the girl asked.

Her father groaned, “I’m gonna need an Advil.”

The girl was already reaching into a bag to pull out the bottle. She held it up for him along with a small water bottle. As her father took the pills and water she coughed lightly into her hand, pulling out a small yellow petal and threw it away.

Jack noted the nonchalant of the exchange. He too was picking his things up. This was it. No turning back, no running.

Ten minutes and with everything gathered up the plane was descending. Jack winced as his ears popped.

As the plane coasted to a stop, Jack was looking around, becoming fidgety. What was about to happen had his heart where his stomach should be and his stomach in his throat. The flowers were coming up too. Jack ate another half of a candy bar discretely, biting his tongue as he did so.

Finally, they were told that they could depart. Jack was caught up in a slow motion, fast past state of mind. His arms and legs worked quickly, as if he couldn’t move fast enough. But his mind was going so slow and the rest of the world was moving too fast.

He moved aside as the girl’s father moved out to get in the upper compartment as the girl grabbed the bag from under her seat. She smiled at Jack as she stood. He let her get out to follow her father. As he was bringing the various bags down daughter observed father. Then the girl looked back at Jack.

Her eyes kept him grounded, the blurs of the world moved around him, but the girl was a steady constant, a reassurance. “Remember what I said Jack.” She said as her father gathered up the bags and looked ready to get off the plane asap as well. “Wait for it!” She smiled, then turned and followed her father.

A few more passengers, anxious to get off followed quickly after them.

Jack sighed. He waited for the plane to empty out a bit more before he too got into the overhead compartment and grabbed the rest of his bags.

He exited the plane, got his bags, and outside the airport he hailed a taxi. To keep his mind from betraying him he decided to put some music on. He put his ear buds in and Sabaton’s Long Live the King played in his ears as the taxi took him down the streets of LA to his ultimate fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about this chapter in general, I honestly think a lot of it could be cut, and more of alternating perspectives put in like the last chapters. I hate how unalike this chapter is from all the others but if I did it like the others it'd be so freaking long and maybe never put up.
> 
> Looking back I don't like this chapter at all, it's just filler and pointless oc shit. I feel bad about the filler uh so stupid. But I spent a fucking week writing it so here you go.


	7. Renagade Thoughts (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think he’ll make it?” one asked.  
> “I hope so,” said the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, new chapter finally!  
> Some of you may or may not know this, but I have a Presentable Liberty fic out that was started by a friend of mine who can't finish it. They are suffering severely with their health both mental and physical. This has taken a bit of a toll on mine as well, as I want to get that fic done before they possibly pass away. I have a few more chapters in this and it will be finished, but I also have Song from the Soul I want to finish and another installment of my Chibi series.  
> Not to mention the many college projects I need to do to pass. 
> 
> A lot is going on and I'm not able to write or edit. After this semester is over and summer starts, I'll be looking for a job, so that will also cut into my time here. I apologize if this isn't able to get finished soon. I wanted this done by April, but around Thanksgiving and Christmas will all the shit this fandom has received (thank god it's died down) I got really depressed and lost interest in this fic, and just couldn't write as much. Excuses, excuses but I just wanted to let you guys know what's been going on that kept this fic from continuing as it may happen again because the world is a fickle place full of fickle people with fickle lives and fickle memories. Forgive me for this ramble and I will see you in the next update. Chau!

The music hadn’t helped.

Jack had gotten on social media and had talked about the fan he’d met, being vague about where he met her and their more private conversations, but he did leave a link to her channel and hoped that that would help her, or someone else, in some way. Of course, after this he was once again stuck in his own head.

The sun was setting by the time the cab stopped in front of the house. Jack had nodded off a little, but he couldn’t stay asleep for long. Renegade thoughts swirled around in a melancholy tango in his head. Two full roses came up and one rose bud.

After hearing Polaris’s story from the plane, Jack was honestly having doubts about the surgery, but what was worse was the thoughts of this upcoming week.

Plans were rapidly changing in his mind.

The plan to disappear after telling the truth turned to outright kissing Mark as soon as he saw him. This is what caused the first rose to get tangled in his teeth.

The plan to smile and hug Mark, pretend it was just another friendly meeting, turned to spilling his metaphorical mushy flower clogged guts to his best friend the moment they were in the house. This caused the second rose to come up his esophagus.

Nights spent gaming and bantering, turned to flirting and cuddles. The rose bud tickled his throat.

The kiss turned to running. The confession turned to screaming. The cuddles turned to hitting his head against a wall until he fell unconscious.  Rolls of anxiety caused Jack to have a headache at the base of his skull. This wasn’t going to work.

But no.

Suddenly Jack saw out of the corner of his eye, Mark’s house come into view and he had to peal his sticky face off the window, leaving a ghost of moisture and heat behind. It was as if he couldn’t speak to the driver as he paid the fair. Couldn’t get the words, _take me back to the airport_ out of his throat, because he knew all that would come up were red rose petals.

He took his bags out of the car. The actions were robotic, a practiced set of movements that held no real thought behind them. He thanked the taxi driver as he pulled out and Jack finally turned to look at the house. The last bit of light from the sun was quickly fading and Jack hurried up the steps.

He took a breath, stealing himself. Whatever was going to come next, Jack knew he couldn’t plan for. He’d run on pure instinct. He knew it. Jack couldn’t prepare himself enough for this moment so there was no point.

He knocked.

The door opened.

Tyler stood there, black hoody and jeans. Ethan appeared behind him seconds later, Jack’s name falling from his lips before the man himself could say anything.

“Um,” Jack rubbed the back of his neck, “Hey guys, is Mark home?”

Tyler automatically shook his head, “Look Jack, we tried to reach you at home but it was already too late. Um… there’s this… just…”

“It’d be best if you just come in and see for yourself.” Ethan cut in, “It’s easier than explaining.”

The two moved away from the entry way for Jack to come through.

Jack took off his shoes and coat which Tyler took.

The house looked, normal, not exactly well lit, as the sun had only just disappeared a few moments ago. The two men turned on a few lamps.

Ethan looked at Jack, worrying his bottom lip, “You know where Mark’s office and room are. You need to see… Just…” Ethan waved nervously turning away.

Jack turned slowly, the world seemed to push back on him as he made his way to Mark’s office.

The same renegade thoughts battled in his head, new reinforcements battled with them. Was Mark… Okay? The boys were cryptic and honestly the only things Jack could come up with as explanation were not good.

With each step he took closer to the door the worse the thoughts got.

Now there he stood at the door, pausing. What would he find on the other side?

He hesitated, his hand on the cool knob. Another steadying breath.

The knob turned

The door opened.

It was dark, the room wasn’t lit. Jack took a step in and felt something odd against his socked feet. He leaned down and began to take off his socks. What was he doing? But it didn’t matter, one sock was off and his bare foot was now pressed into the carpet. Except, it wasn’t carpet.

Jack stilled, his heart stopped, everything within him and around him, the entire world, halted.

There was a second when nothing moved, Jack didn’t dare to breath.

Then the second was over and he was lunging for the light switch.

It came on.

The room was flooded with light, and with red.

Jack panicked, his head spun for a moment before his brain finally registered what he was seeing: Red rose petals. That’s what he felt on his foot instead of carpet. Jack’s mind still wasn’t fully caught up as he scanned the entire room. Every surface covered in rose petals.

Jack’s mouth was slightly agape, tension in his jaw keeping it from dropping the entire way.

The computer desk, monitor and various other objects were red with roses. Beside the computer was a triangular stack of stemmed roses. On top of the monitor was whole roses with no stems. A few other surfaces had a similar pattern, as if someone meticulously put these flowers there to look neat, while the rest of the room was in chaos from the petals.

Jack looked wildly around the room, a small noise escaped his mouth, akin to the sound of Mark’s name. Louder he called, “Mark?”

No one was in the office. Was Mark in his room? Jack’s breathing was wild as he pealed out of the room at break-neck speeds.

He didn’t knock, just slammed the door open. He called out, not recognizing his own voice.

He found this room in the same state as the other. Roses and their petals covering every surface. Stacks of flowers methodically placed, but no pattern Jack could distinguish. After calling out several times and running around the room like a maniac searching even the most impossible places he found his answer to where Mark was.

Not there.

Not there. Not there, not there, not there, not there?!

Where the flying fucker fuck was Mark?!

Jack was panicking to the point where he collapsed onto the red petal floor and just clutched his stomach trying to breathe again. He ended up coughing again and a few of his own red rose petals added to the mess.

It took a few minutes but Jack ended up getting his breathing under control and rational thought resumed.

Ethan and Tyler had said to see for himself. This had to mean the roses. They knew about them. Jack wasn’t sure they knew what they meant, but he knew they knew they were there.

He sat up. They hadn’t seemed panicked when he’d come, a bit disheveled but not in a panic as if someone had died. Mark wasn’t at the house, so they probably knew where he’d gone…

Jack stood. By the amount of roses and petals, he felt he didn’t have much time. He headed for the door, only to hesitate. His hand clutched the front of his shirt, his palms sweating, he finally registered what this meant…

Mark was in love with someone… who didn’t love him back. Mark had to know that he was dying. Who wouldn’t question suddenly barfing up flowers and not end up finding the Hanahaki Disease.

Jack was still halted just before the door. Mark was dying because some idiot didn’t love him… if only he was in love with Jack, then neither of them would be having this problem.

He bit back tears and exited the rose covered room.

His feet went from softly treading on the carpet to pounding down the stairs nearly flying into the couch as he tripped trying to put his sock back on. Ethan and Tyler both looking at him expectedly.

“Where is he?” Jack’s breath was gone. He was sure he didn’t even form sounds as his lips moved.

Tyler looked at his phone and Ethan was already up beside Jack pushing stiff papers into his hand.

“Mark left just this morning to go visit you for whatever reason,” Tyler said a tone of knowing in his voice. Jack figured he knew exactly the reason Mark left, but due to his friendship with the man wasn’t willing to disclose intimate details.

“Like we said, we tried to reach you but you were probably already on the plane.” Ethan piped up.

Jack looked at him, then down to the papers in his hands.

“We got you a few plane tickets to get you back to Ireland. We don’t know if it’ll get you there before Mark or after, but…” Ethan seemed to lose his words.

“You need to leave like, now if you’re going to catch your flight.” Tyler said, practically pushing Jack out the door. “We’ve called a cab; it should be here in like five minutes.”

The three of them now were on the porch waiting for the taxi.

Tyler looked over Jack, almost analytically.

The cab pulled up and Jack rushed to gather his things.

“You two need to talk!” Tyler called out to him. “We’re worried about him. He’s been off for a while and we just want to make sure he’s okay. When you get there, when you see him, text us, call us, let us know you two have met up and that he’s okay.” Tyler finished.

Ethan nodded, “Now get your ass out of here! Your plane leaves in like an hour!”

Jack was just nodding all the way, trying to process all that was being said to him. Everything seemed to be spinning. Jack had all the paperwork he needed, but he was still going in blind. He didn’t even glance at the papers as he dashed his way to the taxi, just flinging the suitcases in the cab with him. “I will. Thank you guys! You don’t know what this means to me. To the both of us!” He got in, waving frantically as the driver peeled away, renegade thoughts chasing after.

“You think he’ll make it?” one asked.

“I hope so,” said the other.


	8. Renagade Thoughts (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hopped into the awaiting taxi and it sped off before his roommates could think twice about tackling him to the ground.  
> “Fuck!” One said to the other, “Get the phone!”

When Mark began to prepare for his trip, everything had essentially gone wrong. When he tried to get a ticket that would send him all the way to Ireland, it got canceled and last minute he had to book three more flights. He had to take one from LA to Washington DC, then over the pond to London and finally Dublin. Why he’d chosen Delta again was beyond him. But even American Airline seemed to be against him too. Every flight had some sort of layover or hold up. One flight after another was cancelled and another having to be rebooked.

When Mark had left his house that morning he had a piece of toast in his mouth and was waving goodbye to the guys who were still groggy with sleep. He whipped open the door and shouted as well as he could behind him that he was leaving for Ireland for a week to visit Jack. Both Tyler and Ethan’s gazes snapped up to his back as he pulled his suitcase out the door, stumbling, and slamemed the door shut behind him. He hopped into the awaiting taxi and it sped off before his roommates could think twice about tackling him to the ground.

“Fuck!” One said to the other, “Get the phone!”

Mark had to wait two hours until the flight departed. Longer than he’d expected. But really, after that first ticket had been canceled what else could he do? His plane ended up having to make a pit stop before DC. He had to wait as the plane refilled. It turned out that the gas tank was leaking and Mark had to board a new plane to get to Washington. When he got there, he'd stay there for another three hours in layover. Then London. At this point, London didn’t have him laid over but with his luck he’d be spending an entire day there, or he could finally have some luck.

. . .

Mark was waiting in Washington’s airport, gnawing his lower lip. The layover had been extended to five hours and he had received an email that when he got to London he'd have a thirteen hour layover, a hint that he should maybe get a hotel room and sleep off a bit of the jet lag before he got all the way to Jack's house.

One hand was clutching a tissue that had bits of chewed up petals that Mark kept hidden out of embarrassment.

Renegade thoughts battled in the dense terrain of Mark’s mind. Various scenarios Mark tried to keep at bay, lest he go into a coughing fit and hack up more flowers. Doubts filled his head like the flowers in his lungs. He was risking so much by doing this, two things namely. Jack and his relationship as it was now and, to a lesser extent for right then, his own life.

His exhausted body was slumped up against the wall where an outlet was. He’d been so caught up in his head that he hadn’t noticed his phone die by the time he landed. He rested his head against the wall, a window to his left, a sunset beginning to illuminate the sky in a rainbow of burning colors. The beginnings of stars peeking out from behind the fading light.

Mark watched the shadows move slowly as the sun sank, he looked out beside him, a plane taking off into the coming night. A false peace sparkled in the stars, dying lights from far away burning to extinction. Mark was fascinated by the night sky as he always was, even if his view consisted of half a wall and huge passenger planes.

Serenity prickled at his insides, only to push a bloom up. His eyes watered as his throat lit up in flame as the irritating symbol of affection was spat out.

Mark sighed, eyes closed, he once again leaned back and tried to let his burning head soak in the coolness of the plaster behind it. He held onto the rose, almost crushing it in his grip as he took deep breaths. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He could feel the vines and thorns down in his lungs, squeezing and he tried to hold back more tears.

The pain was getting unbearable, the only time it let up was when a rose came up. A pressure there, shooting upward at the slightest hint of rouges and renegades. It would fade as the rose came out of his mouth and he could breath again.

Mark desperately wanted this feeling to go away, wanting the only pressure on his mid-section to be Jack’s arms wrapped around him in a warm, loving hug.

Mark took in a shallow, sharp breath and then in one painful sputter, three full flowers came out. He sighed, letting their short cut stems fall from his mouth to his hands with the other bloom. He chuckled bitterly. One rose **:** Love at first sight, or years later "you are still the one." Three roses simply meant "I love you."

He sighed again, albeit more painful than the last. He shifted slightly and grabbed his satchel.

He took out the other two roses he’d coughed up during this harrowing trip. Six roses **:** "I want to be yours." They’ve been coming in nines now. A bouquet of nine roses symbolizes eternal love or "I want to be with you forever." He’d realized that if he was especially mushy with his thoughts they’d come up by the dozens. If one dozen says "be mine," two dozen says "I'm yours."

It seemed that these bouquets just built on themselves showing just how bad Mark had it. He looked up several meanings of the number of roses he seemed to be barfing up. It ranged from, "All my deepest affections are concentrated in you" to “I'll love you till the day I die”. He had shivered at that one, how ominous it sounded as the roses added up.

A crackling and muted voice came over the speakers. Mark barely caught that they were now boarding. He shifted again, reaching for his charger and phone, unplugging it all and gathered up his things. He stood, sluggishly, and looked at the line beginning to form.

Here he was, about to take another step closer, whispers of renegade thoughts trailing behind him like smoke and stardust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder for all of you: Jack got more carnations the first time, Mark got more lavender the first time, Jack got the roses first.  
> The amount of flowers is kinda important to note when they first start coughing them up. It shows how strong the affection/attraction is.  
> Another important thing to note is that they got the disease at the same time. But when they changed flowers can show how far gone they are.
> 
> Fun Fact of the day: Neither have much time.


	9. Update

What up guys, I haven't posted a chapter in over a year! And I wanted to give you an update on this. I have been periodically writing for it, and since this story can't pick a style, you're going to be getting a switching of POVs again like the first few chapters, but since this story is wrapping up, it's a bit longer. And if I'm to be honest I'm having a hard time with Mark's POV. Which leads me to an advanced warning for new tags coming up when this chapter gets posted. They're going to be 'Blood' and 'Panic attacks.' And yeah, it's a bit tough for me to harness that without triggering my own. So yeah. There's that whole thing. At least for Mark's POV I have to be in a specific mood during this next chapter to get his stuff down and I haven't been there. So right now I'm still working on Jack's perspective which is slightly easier. This chapter will be deleted once the real one is put up.

 

So to hold you off for however long its going to take to finish this next chapter here's a little snippet for y'all! :3

 

*He sat by the window, the plan running in a loop in his head along with the songs coming through his headphones that he’d have to shut off soon. His mouth was full of chocolate. He’d bit the bullet and bought three more packs before his flight took off to Pittsburg.

The sun was setting. The world lighting up in burning colors. He’d be flying into the starry sky and getting to his destination around two in the morning.

The voice of the stewardess mumbling in the background as she gave a few more instructions on safety. In a few minutes, Jack would be told to buckle up. The engines would rev and soon, too soon and not soon enough, he’d feel g-forces pushing him back into his seat and his ears wanting to pop as they took off. He’d feel tears begin to roll down his cheeks as the pain of the repressed flowers welled in his throat.

Until then, until he met up with Mark at his front door, he’d chew on sweets and get lost in his head to the sound of music and faltering heartbeats.*

 

By the way how many of you actually listened to Long Live the King by Sabaton? I didn't just pick it because its a good song. :P There is some foreshadowing in it. Though it's not blatantly obvious unless you read into it. Have fun!

 


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